


Winter Warmth

by thesinbin



Series: Ash's Adventures [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black!Reader - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/M, incredibly indulgent smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7446175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesinbin/pseuds/thesinbin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Winter Soldier finds he doesn't care much for winter weather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebearking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/gifts).



You’d had your share of winters. Although you hailed from a warmer climate, you’d grown acclimated to the inconvenience of the wintry white and the dry gusts that came along with it. This was, however, your first winter sharing a floor with Bucky in the Avengers Tower. Perhaps you weren’t a stranger to New York, but somehow sharing your living space made everything seem like it was happening for the first time.

“Okay, I’ve gotten all the blankets I can find,” you stated, waddling into your shared living room with both arms laden. “I think I stole a few of Steve’s but he can manage.” Bucky looked up from his phone with a sideways grin.

“Steve’s got other things to worry about,” Bucky replied. A brief yelp was heard outside the door of your apartment.

“What the actual fuck?” roared an outraged voice. You grinned—Kai was making use of their cold hands in their favorite manner—tormenting Steve.

“You’re lucky you’ll never have that problem,” you sang, dropping the blankets onto the couch and stretching.

“Yeah—,” Bucky coughed. “Except for all those accidental brandings.” Your cheeks flushed instantly. You were, on occasion, known to heat up past what was physically acceptable for the average human body. Bucky still had your handprint on his ass.

The building’s heating had miraculously decided enough was enough—everyone could suffer some slight chills until Tony got it up and running again. You’d definitely prepared enough to have some warm coats and extra socks on hand, but hadn’t foreseen that Bucky might feel as cold as you. He’d whined his way into getting hot chocolate and all the extra heaters you had, but when that had failed to help him overcome the cold, you’d gone blanket hunting.

“You’d think the Winter Soldier, super serum and all, could withstand a little New York flurry,” you teased. Your boyfriend gave a slight scowl.

“Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it,” he replied, dragging a couple of blankets over his legs. “You wouldn’t exactly enjoy it either.” You offered a somewhat apologetic smile before holding out another blanket as a peace offering. Bucky took it instantly and draped it over his torso.

You examined his cocoon—no spot needed another blanket to cover it—before lounging across the other end of the couch. Bucky’s face was half-covered by a few layers of cloth. “Satisfied?” you asked, a grin stretching across your lips. Your natural temperature of 300 degrees afforded you protection from all heat and most cold. Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. He shook his head.

“Well,” you said, fluffing your hair before leaning back down again, “I don’t think I can take any more blankets. Sam might kill me, Steve has none, and I’m a little scared to go in Kai’s room—“ Bucky snickered. “What would you like me to do?”

Bucky’s arm fought for freedom, gears whirring, before his hand patted the seat beside him. “Oh?”

“C’mon doll,” Bucky said with a seemingly genuine note of desperation. “You’re all I need.” A chuckle escaped you.

What Bucky needed, you could provide. With a yawn, you slid over beside him and buried yourself in the blankets that cloaked Bucky from view. Your body slotted nearly next to his, your small hands in his large ones, chest to chest, your head on his shoulder. Bucky’s body melted beneath you.

“Better?” you breathed, inhaling his scent of old leather and prairie, metal and gunpowder. You breathed deeper. Beneath all that was a scent you couldn’t quite place, but it was as unique to Bucky as his stunning, if somewhat rare smile.

Bucky’s lips quirked. “Much better, doll,” he said quietly, bringing his arms around you. You fell asleep to the sensation of his lips against your forehead.


End file.
